#... danilo ft. safiya ☆

[moonethecate]

the bird’s morning song. a soft splash, a tumbling pebble into the cool waters of the nearest creek. wind. leaves ruffling, dancing, falling, flying. sunlight, soft and the color of sand, it creeps through the light curtains, it twinkles against his lids in a soft waking. 

he takes in a breath still with one remaining toe dipped into the waters of sleep. there’s a weight at his chest the stirs against the rising and falling, there’s a dull stab at his back from a corner night-long pressed into him. there’s peace too, lingering like dust particles  slow dancing in morning light. 

morning.

at last, danilo lets his eyes flutter open, squinting, adjusting to the creeping light. 

gleaming glass, light fractured against crystal into a fading rainbow, against the vinyl shelf. albums with cracked and fading covers, rose scented ash, cooling piled and crumbling. cards sprawled on the table into a lazy attempt of a piled deck. an empty bottle of rosé knocked over by their feet and into a white rug,

his hand’s been tracing lightly against her skin as she sleeps, as he glimpses at the room and pieces back the night before. there’s a soft chuckle at the realization– how they’d lost track of time with a glitchy watch and sleepy disposition, how he’d laid back and closed his eyes for a second and fallen into deep and sweet sleep before marking the new year. 

he looks at her now, her skin glowing in the morning light, her expression soft, peaceful, rested. curled into this piece they took on the floor instead of the made bed. he tucks a lock of brown hair behind her ear with a lingering fingering and smiles with a small kiss to the top of her head. “happy new year”, he whispers. ( @conscientes )

[moonethecate]

the moon is out, witness to the soft rustling of their feet against the pavement as the pair have fallen into a gray silence. three dogs lead the way exploring just a couple of meters away– danilo’s heavy lids take a glance at her, walking still just an inch apart. lips part, but they don’t really find the right words. he may have fucked up. there’s a soft sound that makes him look, a slumbering violin, a melody that picks up, joined by a second violin and what sounds more like a cello. his head sways a bit to the slow rythm, danilo’s hand reaches for hers. ( @conscientes )

[moonethecate]

[ @conscientes ] the door swings and there’s a bell that announces his arrival, though its ringing is mostly drowned out by a spotify coffee shop playlist in the background and the soft, yet overpowering buzz of people packed into a line, discussing orders and gosspis from lips to ears.

upon his first step, danilo takes a deep breath. he lets the strong scent of roasted coffee cling to his clothes, to his skin, to the couple of books he keeps tucked under an arm– lets it flood into an overworked brain. most days, he’d walk into the plays before class or in between trips to the library just out of habit– today, he needed the caffein. 

heavy lids from a restless sleep. restless because he couldn’t stop turning, couldn’t stop thinking, couldn’t stop... comparing? –enough. with a grunt he places himself into the queue without really noticing the ‘who’s’ in said line, rather just the ‘how many’. restless and heavy lidded, he takes another breath from the coffee and lets the scent be a central focus as he takes one step after the other, as he’s led slowly to the counter.

and then, really, it all goes to hell. he looks up mostly acting on autopilot, his hand sunk deep into a pocket, the other holding tightly the books under his arm. he’d left the library just recently, needing a break from an ever turning brain, a storm of invading thoughts that had nothing to do with the words printed into paper before him and everything to do with the warmth she’d shared with him that very cold night. the night of her twisted ankle and her tears of anguish, of her magic fingertips... and then he looks up and he catches a glimpse of her caramel hair, her kind stare. he nods in acknowledgement because what the hell is he supposed to do if not that? after he’d left her bed with barely any parting words.

what now? he lowers his gaze as if entertained by the pattern on the floor, and then shakes his head more so at himself than anything else. after all, he’s the one that stands anything to loose, he’s the one that’s left looking like a clown. better to snuff it out, this feeling that stirs in his gut, the one that won’t shut up, ‘you don’t want this’, danilo reminds himself ‘you don’t need this’.

[moonethecate]

tiny droplets kiss the windshield in a late afternoon mist. danilo drops his phone into the cupholder and steps out of the car. he hugs in the black coat against the chilly air, eyes squinting at the droplets that land on his cheeks, his lashes. he spots her easily enough, struggling behind the sliding doors and though he's tired and slightly upset like a pup that's been kicked, the sight of her beings life into his lungs and a soft smile on his lips. he shakes his head at her– unsure if she can even see, and walks over with long strides into the shop to shield himself for a second from the coming rain. he doesn't hesitate– though he probably should considering the many items piled on on her arms. he pulls her in, chasing her warmth, lands a tender kiss on her cheek. "i love you" he whispers with his lids shut before pulling away an inch to get a better look at the scene before him, "are we missing anything? you're good to go?" [ @conscientes ]

[moonethecate]

time: past 10pm location: someplace with a coffee table & wifi with whom: safiya ( @conscientes )

the crystal cup lingers near his lips. a drop of dark wine balances on the transparent rim, threatens to trip over, slide, spill, stain. with a swift swipe of his tongue danilo licks the drop off the glass and tastes a splash of deep oak against the roof of his mouth. the wine in his cup swirls in a lazy hand, though dark brown eyes remain not on the dark liquid, but on the pensive woman sitting across. a moment passes, the man almost seems to count to ten in his pretty little mind as eyes scan, wonder, stare. he’s giving her a chance to notice, to react before being called out like a toddler staring out a window in her kindergarten lesson for abc’s... but one can wait only for so long. danilo clears his throat, letting the cup settle amongst books, notes and a laptop on the coffee table. “am i gonna have to take your name out of the paper?”